


Aftershocks

by JoJo



Category: Planet of the Apes (TV)
Genre: Community: hc_bingo, Earthquakes, Episode Related, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, episode: s01 e03 The Trap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 05:36:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6841126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoJo/pseuds/JoJo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Still on the run and rocked by their experiences in the unstable city, cracks begin to appear in the trio's friendship - not to mention in Burke's ribs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Colonel

**Author's Note:**

> fulfills the 'forced to rely on enemy' square in my no-longer-current h/c bingo card!
> 
> with many thanks to kassidy for the beta - mistakes are all my very own

Virdon took the high road, sloping from the last broken outskirts of civilisation towards the distant rocks and pines of the foothills. Like a drill sergeant he herded the other two along the dust track and into the woods as soon as the ground had stopped rumbling under their feet. After escaping the city, their pause for breath in the waning sun was over.

The tremors had followed them for hours now, like a bad smell. Although the signs of instability were tailing off in frequency and strength – as the other two kept calmly pointing out – they were enough to write a faint layer of trauma over Burke’s face. 

“Not again,” was all he’d said, voice barely a croak. All the time they’d been staggering their way out of the danger area and into the relative safety of the countryside, Virdon had been terrified at the way he could hardly catch his breath. 

They were outside what probably used to be city limits by that time. Almost by instinct their direction of travel was towards the densely wooded northern hills Burke had wanted them to hide out in all along. 

Any movement from the apes had been going south, back towards Central City. It seemed that a need to discover how the injured gorilla leader fared had become their priority. At any rate, with Commander Urko out of commission, responsibility for tracking fugitives seemed to have fallen into temporary chaos. 

Virdon supposed such a chaos would protect them – for a while at least – but then again he didn’t completely trust anything to go well right now. The shifting ground was ominous. It made him nauseous and insecure – Hell knew how it made Burke feel. When he abruptly disappeared from view after growling that he was just taking a leak and they didn’t need to look at him like that, Galen hopped from one foot to the other in anxiety.

“Is he all right? Should we keep moving?” 

The occasional shiver underfoot didn’t seem to bother the chimpanzee much. But then he was probably used to what passed as normal for seismic activity. Even though Virdon had never spent much time on the west coast in his former life, he figured things now were a good deal different to his own generation’s experience. From what they’d learned so far, most features of Earth had become more volatile. It was hard for Virdon not to speculate with his new forwards-backwards mindset on the role humanity might have played in the change.

He acknowledged Galen’s question, tight-lipped. “He just needs rest. And so do we.”

“Does he seem very out of breath to you? He’s weaving all over the place.”

Yes, the weaving. That had worried Virdon, too.

“His lungs’ll be hurting after being down in that bad air for so long, that’s all.”

‘Down in that death-trap,’ as he thought. And, as he also thought, ‘down in that treasure-trove.’ 

Burke had managed to tell them some of what he’d seen in the caved-in subway – including, apparently, the wreck of a nuclear-powered Rapid Transit car. And he’d also said there was – miracle of miracles! – a solar light source, still working after all this time. 

Virdon had been inwardly, guiltily, thrilled with these revelations. 

The information had been at the forefront of his mind, even while he was struggling to keep Burke on his feet. Even as they’d half guided, half dragged him through the streets, he’d been squirreling away the information to feast on later. For, if there was all that technology buried under the city in various states of functionality... well, who knew what else might still be operative in some way? The disk always burned a hole in the jute bag on his hip, but even more now. He daren’t tell the others just how much. Just how all-encompassingly desperate he was to go back and explore what they hadn’t gotten to. Whatever the dangers.

“I don’t suppose Urko was very peaceful company either,” Galen murmured, cutting through his thoughts.

“Huh, I’d lay bets he tried to kick the ever-loving shit out of him.”

Galen gave a little sigh, as much over the choice of words as the image presented. 

And then Burke himself stumped out of the undergrowth towards them. He was favoring one side, Virdon noted. His gait was all wrong and it was hard to tell if his face was a normal color because of the dust and flecks of rubble coating his skin. The debris peppered his clothes, too, lent the wild dark hair a silvery cast.

“You good to go?”

Burke’s lips quirked, half bitter, as if he knew they’d been discussing him.

“Taking Urko home strapped to a horse won’t exactly be a vote-winner.” His voice had begun to crackle, coming and going like a faulty radio signal. “And once he wakes up he isn’t going to buy the line that we were shot either.” He waved a hand, weak, as if it could speak for him. Then he painfully hawked up something that seemed to be full of sand and spat it into the bushes, which made Galen wince. 

“What we need is to find shelter and get you fixed up,” Virdon said, antsy.

Burke eyed him. “Sure.” He was clearly feeling too lousy to pretend otherwise and rubbed the side of his chest with a grimace. “But maybe not right here.”

Virdon turned his head. “You have any idea where we can go, Galen?”

Galen harrumphed at him. “I told you, as far as I know there are no human villages in the forest. I’d say we have to keep closer to the river, stay out of the trees.” 

“The trees are good cover.” Virdon’s head swung again, always inclusive. “Pete?”

Burke passed the backs of his fingers over his forehead. He rubbed one eye. Virdon realized they were tells he hadn’t noticed for a while, subtle little signs that Pete Burke was running out of reserves. They’d not been on display much since the mission went to hell, but Virdon had been witness to them more than once in training. He wasn’t sure quite what to make of them. His experience was that Major Burke could be majorly bloody-minded, wouldn’t let much defeat him, and would generally surprise you with a second wind just when you’d written him off.

“Don’t care,” Burke said, short. “Just away from-” and he flapped one hand behind him.

“We have no food,” Galen pointed out, “Nothing. We have to find a settlement, and the best way to do that is to stay out of the woods.”

Unease and tension tightened in Virdon’s stomach. It was going to be dark in a couple of hours. Yes they needed a human village, but wandering blind was a crazy idea. The kind of crazy idea that might get them picked up all over again. 

“Back to Numai?” he said. “We know we have friends there.” 

Now he’d been into the ruined city himself he knew important things he ought to tell the Numai children, Lisa and Jick. Things that would keep them safe if they insisted on exploring it again, which of course they would. 

“Well if Urko’s troops manage to get themselves organized, Numai is the first place they’ll go. It always is.” Galen sighed out loud at the thought. “Much as I’d like to see Miller and his family again, I wouldn’t want to bring them any more trouble. They’ve probably had a visit already. No, I think we have to go somewhere else.”

“Come on then,” Virdon said in the end, unwilling. “Let’s go see what we can find.”

Walking into the unknown was just what they did, every day. 

Part of him was always optimistic, of course. But having once thought about Numai again, there was suddenly nowhere else he wanted to go. Being with human families – with parents and children all together – was a fundamental pull on all his emotions. And then it was true that he’d like Burke to rest up with humans they could trust. 

Of course, Virdon also couldn’t deny also that proximity to the city was pivotal. He wanted to return and scour every possible building from top to bottom. Literally. God help him – that poisonous Pandora’s box, hiding who knew what dangerous secrets. How he thought he’d convince Burke to go there a second time he didn’t know.

Virdon glanced between them – his little battle troop, looking to him for leadership. And frankly not always convinced he had their well-being at heart. 

“Let’s get off the road at least. For now. That means out of sight, in the trees. I’m sorry, Galen.”

Sorry. He was sorry, it seemed, about everything, all the time.

Galen frowned as if he thought Virdon had a plan he wasn’t telling them about for a reason he wouldn’t like. Burke just shrugged, faintly temperamental. He fell into his own wayward rhythm when Virdon moved. 

They set off up the shady slope and into the shelter of the pines.

*

It was not the first night they’d bedded down out in the open without any hot food. 

Usually Burke would have some crack on hand about their limitless choice between motels, bars, and burger joints, but not this time. And usually Virdon would attempt to put a good spin on things. He was a country boy at heart, had always enjoyed survival exercises, but there were too many uncertainties here. Everything was different, even the nutrition on offer. Not to mention that he didn’t care to look forward to what it would be like for them on the road once winter kicked in. From what he could tell, the climate wouldn’t be that of the California they’d once known.

A fire at least gave them heat, but there was nothing to cook on it. On their way into the thickness of the forest Galen, as ever, had found some berries. 

“Oh you’ll like these, these are wonderful!”

God Bless Galen and his eternal joys. This time there were also what he claimed were delicious edible cones. At first sight of them Virdon immediately thought, with a cinch in his empty stomach, of the fresh bread Miller’s wife had made.

“Well you may not think they taste very nice but they’ll last you.” Galen was forthright, if not a little impatient, when challenged over the chewy, woody texture of his offering.

“And if we boil them?”

“Ha, I wouldn’t bother. They’re better as they are.”

But Virdon wanted the hot water anyhow. He unearthed a squat, dented tin he always carried in his backpack, and set it up over the fire. 

“OK, Pete,” he ordered when the water was on the good side of warm. “Get your shirt off.” 

“Man you’re frisky tonight.” Burke’s response might have been predictable but it didn’t sound much like him.

“I mean it. I need to see the damage.”

“’Kay, all right, no need to be so pushy.”

By slow degrees Burke obediently shrugged out of his shirt, face scrunching in discomfort as he raised his arms. 

“Ohhhh,” Galen whimpered, not able to help himself.

Burke’s back was... well, it what they might have expected. Angry red marks and bruising rippled under his arms and across his ribs. Some of the skin along his spine and low on his waist was rubbed raw. All in all, front and back, he was black and blue - as if he’d tumbled down a hole underneath the side of a building. Or as if he’d been beaten with sticks.

“Is this just from the fall?” Virdon asked, fingertips ghosting along the faultlines of injury. The smooth tan skin was warm, Burke’s muscles twitching, uneasy. “Was there debris on top of you?”

“Well I did say if we were stupid enough to go there a damned building would fall on us.”

Virdon felt the sting of reproach and it evidently showed on his face judging by the look Burke gave him. He hoped the accompanying stab of guilt over his urge to go back wasn’t just as clear.

“Landed badly,” Burke enlarged, apparently taking pity on him. His voice sounded like the wheeze of galloping laryngitis. 

“But all this?”

Burke looked down at himself, rueful. “Urko may have played a part.” He put a hand, almost instinctive, to his throat. 

Virdon’s jaw tightened. He hadn’t missed the shadowy marks on Burke’s neck. They were, evidently, Urko’s violent imprint and partly causing the vocal scratchiness. Galen had missed them up to now though, and made another whimpering sound when he noticed.

“Damn it, Pete.” Virdon felt a hot wash of rage. Ape on human violence could make his blood boil in a way he couldn’t quite interpret, and the fact that it was Burke... He shook his head. “You think your ribs are intact?”

“They’re a little rattled. But yeah.” Burke seened surprised at the strength of feeling on display. He cleared his throat with difficulty. “Reckon there’s no breaks. If you don’t keep poking ‘em.”

“Well I’m going to wrap you.”

“Terrific.”

“Yeah, yeah. Going to let me clean those cuts out? God knows what kind of crap was in that subway and you look like you’ve been rolling in it.” 

Virdon knew he was sliding into full nanny mode and that Burke had a limited tolerance for it at the best of times. He couldn’t help himself though. Not many hours before Galen had stood there and told him Pete was dead, for crying out loud. All the dread and panic hadn’t found its way up and out yet. Until it did, Burke would have to put up with being fussed over.

Burke huffed out a tetchy sigh. Neverthless, he lowered himself down on a log, placed his feet firmly and put his hands on his knees. “Be my guest.” He shuddered a little from the cool air.

“The lungs?”

A harsh cough, full of grit. “Half a ton of powdered concrete in there, buddy.”

“Right.” 

Burke didn’t say much more as the ministrations continued. He was beginning to sag from the neck down, although every time his body folded he at once straightened again with a husky expletive. There was a vicious cycle of pain receptors at war with one another right now.

While Virdon worked, teeth gritting, Galen took Burke’s shirt to shake it out. Then he went off to fill the canteens, returning to place them and all the fruit and cones in a pile on a piece of cloth. He seemed quite proud of himself. 

It didn’t look like much of a meal, but Virdon, who’d been crazy with hunger once they’d left city limits, was feeling too tired to care one way or the other now.

“Washing day tomorrow,” Galen ventured, laying the grubby shirt over a bush next to Burke’s elbow. He held out a fistful of food, hopeful. “You want some of this?” 

Burke seemed to take a moment to register what was in his companion’s hairy paw. Virdon waited for one of his best expressive noises, but none came.

“I’ll take a rain check.”

“Oh no,” Galen sighed, “Not that again.” He looked mournfully at the berries and then bent his head to nibble a few.

“OK.” Virdon finished with the bindings, tucking in the ends, tidy as hospital corners. “You’ll do. If you’re not going to eat anything, reckon you should try and sleep. And take more water on board before you do.”

Burke reached to scoop up his shirt but stopped halfway, face twisting. 

“Fuck...”

Galen stiffened in offence. Coarse epithets relating to human sexuality or body parts were more than distasteful to him. Usually Burke, who had an endless supply, would realize this and apologize. Not tonight.

Virdon snagged the shirt for him quickly, holding the armholes at the best angle he could so Burke could slide himself in without too much problem. 

By the time he was dressed again, Burke was sweating slightly. His face and lips, even once he’d wiped the worst of the dust off with a wet cloth, had been revealed as waxy pale. He exchanged a grumpy look with Virdon, then hunched down on one side, near the fire, with his water canteen next to him and his backpack under his ear.

Virdon sat and ate some of the food, only because he knew he ought to. He let the usual hopeless cravings wash over him – for sugar, caffeine, liquor, his life. Sally’s cinnamon apple pie, fresh from the oven, spicy, sweet, comforting. Strong black coffee, a smooth Bourbon chaser heating his veins.

Dear God. He rubbed his belly.

“We’ll do the watch between us, yes?” Galen said in a low voice. “Pete should rest.”

“Or try,” Virdon agreed. 

But first they settled in their usual triangle, Virdon and Burke close, Galen opposite. It was a good blaze, one of Virdon’s best. Normally they were companionable, riding whatever moods they happened to be in. Encouraging, teasing, reminiscing, teaching, squabbling, planning. This evening they were quiet.

“I wonder how Urko is,” Galen said eventually.

Burke didn’t react to that at first, although Virdon thought he spotted tension in the uneasy shift of position. 

“Probably feeling like Pete.”

“Hopefully worse.” Burke’s voice, still full of rocks, was unfamiliar. “Much, much worse.” 

“What went on down there anyhow?” 

Burke cleared his throat with care. 

“Mostly he was trying to throttle me. Or stab me, or punch out my fucking lights.”

Galen shuffled himself in discontent.

“Well I guess that figures.”

“You think? I told him we had no choice, had to work together to make it out alive, but he just thought it was dog eat dog.” The dark eyes, faintly bloodshot, wandered across to Galen as if there was another phrase on his mind, something challenging, but he didn’t say what it was.

“I’m not sure Urko would ever come around to cooperating with a human. Not even for mutual survival.”

“Well, mutual.” Burke managed to be wry. “Reckon Urko only had Urko’s survival on his mind.”

“He didn’t kill you though.” Virdon was well aware that Urko could have done –several times over. Sure Burke had taken the brunt of what looked like more than one vicious attack, but he’d managed to keep the gorilla chief at bay somehow. Virdon wondered what Burke had said or done for protection, because he’d never have had the physical strength to control an aggressive primate fired up with fear and who hated his guts.

“Not for want of trying.” Burke was dirt dry.

“Supposing he doesn’t die, then you will have helped save his life!” Galen was affronted on their behalf. “As did Alan. Without you two he would be dead and buried already.”

“We appreciate your loyalty, Galen, but somehow,” Virdon said, “I think Urko will see things a whole different way.”

“Yes, and if he does, unfortunately so will the rest of them. Oh dear, I don’t have high hopes for Zako, do you? When they find there are no bodies...” Galen made a Galen-like noise of dismay. “It was brave what he did. Urko owes him his life, too.”

Virdon wasn’t quite ready for a full-scale rehabilitation of the gorillas, despite the fact the troop leader Zako had stuck by his word not to execute them. 

He did have to acknowledge Galen was right up to a point though. Their uneasy colloboration with Zako had been a damned sight more positive than Pete’s with Urko. And Zako had been the one to just about keep a lid on the natural instinct of his companions to kill without question. They’d depended on him. At every stage of the rescue something could have gone wrong. Just one word from him and the troops would have undone all the hard work. The thought that the concrete slab might so easily have been allowed to fall again before they’d... it sent a lump of ice plunging into Virdon’s empty stomach. Pete had been mere seconds from a state of asphyxiation they’d have struggled to reverse.

Swallowing, he looked over at Burke. The major’s eyes were not quite closed but they were heavy. He had been gingerly shifting while they spoke, trying, probably in vain, to find a comfortable sleeping position. Virdon hoped exhaustion would roll over him.

Galen, watching him rather than Burke, held out some food. 

“Thanks,” Virdon said, and took it without much relish. He ate a mouthful. The berries were tart but flavorful, and, despite his misgivings, the broken pieces of cone did at least make him feel there was something in his stomach to digest. 

“A little goes a long away,” Galen said, satisfied. “And I think you should sleep, too.  
I’m fine, for now. I’ll give you a few hours.”

The chimpanzee was being quite the soldier, Virdon thought, although he was dubious. Galen had never been trained to function under duress in the way he and Burke had – but his own brain was becoming cloudy with fatigue. Giving Pete a last, uncertain look, he shut his eyes and willed himself to relax.

He half listened for danger, half braced for another tremor. There was nothing, and the ground was still. Seemingly out of nowhere, sleep swept over him, all-embracing. It took him by surprise, pulled him down quick, and held him fast.


	2. The Major

There was only one more tremor before dawn. 

It was slighter than those that had come before, but still made Burke’s guts crawl. The vibration rocked up through the ground and into his bones. Even so, it wasn’t the main reason the night was a rough one.

He’d dozed. Then he’d alternated between a sleep speckled in shouty dreams, and bouts of painfully unproductive retching. Even when he was fully conscious again he could still feel the grip of it. He wasn’t sure if the nausea came from his recall of the brutish stink of Urko which was enough to make him gag and still seemed to be painted all over him, or from what he’d been breathing into his lungs down in the subway. Or maybe it was disgust with himself. At how he’d denied his own truths to save his skin. 

Occasionally, clutching one hand to his chest, he’d managed to bring up some gritty mess. Virdon, seemingly glued to his side, had clearly hated it even more than he did.

Burke didn’t say much, just gripped a fistful of whoever’s shirt was closest as each bout hit. He was barely able to be grateful they both posted themselves near enough to be clutched. 

Around dawn, the time the ground shook again, he’d crumbled back into his bedroll with a feeble, drawn-out huff.

“Reckon you’re done?” 

Virdon’s question was low, breathy with anxiety, hand resting on his shoulder. 

“Reckon.” Burke so much didn’t want him to worry anymore. Alan had enough worries for God’s sake. Him, for a start. And then Galen, people they’d met, how the world turned. Jeez, the Colonel would even worry about the bastard apes if you gave him the chance. He’d been away somewhere to fetch cool water for a compress because naturally he’d be worrying that the effects of a violent purge and dehyrdration would make Burke’s head feel as if it was about to explode. Which of course they did.

Burke dragged open his eyes. They felt hot and dry, full of powdered glass. 

“Rough, rough night,” Alan said, the blue of his compassionate gaze something of a touchstone. “Take it easy, I’ll find you something to drink.”

Burke nodded and squeezed shut his eyes again. The other two went on talking above. 

“If only we had something to help with the ribs, it would make it easier.”

“Surely there’s nothing more to come up at least?” 

“You’d think.”

Burke sensed one of them was poking about by the fire. Frustrated.

“Listen. I’ll go to Numai,” Galen’s quiet voice said. It was an oddly-matched mix of reluctance and determination. 

Galen, of course, liked to make out he always used his superior ape reasoning skills over emotion, but he could beat either of them in the stubbornness stakes when he put his mind to it. 

“Maybe they have something? Some calming herbs, medicinal roots. Something to help the healing.”

“Herbs and roots?” Virdon’s tone, to Burke’s secret amusement, was heavy with skepticism. The kind of skepticism that was second nature to Burke but not generally to the Colonel. But Virdon sounded way too tired to take into account Galen’s sensitivities as he normally would.

“We do let humans have some of our medicines you know.”

“Yes, but...”

“You don’t think they amount to very much? Well, I’ve been treated for fevers and broken bones with ape medicine and it always made me better. What is it exactly that you think you need?”

The haughty, what-makes-you-so-special tone should have warned Virdon to tread carefully but clearly he was too strung out for that. 

“Some morphine would be nice.” There was an unfamiliar snap in Virdon’s tone. “Tylenol Max. Plus a good supply of antibiotics to kill off any infection.” 

“I don’t know what that is. You know I don’t. But we can treat infection.” Galen’s voice was rising in defensive irritation.

Virdon made a sound as if he was sucking his teeth. “Sure you can,” he said eventually, giving nothing away. “But it may not be safe to go into Numai. You said so yourself.”

Galen seemed to ignore that. “We can’t be that far. We didn’t cover much ground last night when we left the city. I could probably be there in a couple of hours.”

The conversation went on, buzzy and more indistinct now. Burke guessed they’d moved further away because it was getting heated, and that kind of made his ribs hurt even more. Probably they were having a re-hash of the ‘nowhere’s safe’ argument Galen had used when supporting Virdon’s wish to explore the city in the first place. Not that that particularly terrific piece of solidarity rankled or anything. Or the fact that Virdon’s drive was the one that always had to keep the wheels turning.

Ugh. Feeling lousy, busted, and pissed off all at the same time was a truly crappy combination.

Burke needed to be stronger before he attempted to unpack motives and hierarchy amongst the three of them. Maybe it was something about being deprived of oxygen that was making him bitch? He tried to concentrate on nothing but the cool of the compress across his head, and the fact that Virdon and Galen were doing their best for him. It sent him away for a while, stumbling clumsily over boulders and sharp-edged little stones, trying to get... somewhere. Somewhere where the air was clean.

“Hey,” came Alan’s voice again, this time assertive. Burke’s pulse raced with the instinct to stand to attention. Virdon was still his commanding officer after all. Not to mention a strange and sustaining composite of parent, best buddy, and significant other. “You think you could take a drink?”

The weight of the compress disappeared. Helpful, obedient, Burke got a palm to the ground. What he actually wanted was to spring up, run down to the stream and wash the glass out of his eyes. He also wanted to sit up and take notice of life, however topsy-turvy.

“Ow... goddamnit.” He was un-nerved to feel his voice rattling in the back of his throat. Highly annoyed by the sensation he pushed himself up. Even though it hurt like hell, he was determined to get more upright.

“Easy does it.” Virdon started off soothing and rapidly moved to impatient. “I said, easy does... boy, you are one pig-headed... OK then, all right, all right! But slow down. At least let me help you.”

As he was levered up, one elbow hooked clumsily through Virdon’s, Burke unpeeled his stinging eyes once again.

“Jeez, Al...”

“Yeah?” There was a sympathetic pause as Virdon let him acclimatize to the new gravity. Then a quiet, wry snort. “Does this remind you of anything?”

It sure did. That crazy hangover without the pleasure of the booze feeling.

And immediately he recalled Farrow’s secret cave, coming to after the crash, their new reality dawning with such a terrible permanence he could hardly breathe his way through it. Then the subsequent shedding of their uniforms – like old snakeskins. Burke had always wondered if the suits were still there, stuffed behind a rock or something, and had felt a strange desire to go back and find out. They were a badge of identity after all, a link to their past, and it bothered him now how much he didn’t like not having that anymore. 

He suddenly realized, too, and for the first time, that he felt bad about Farrow. If it hadn’t been for them dropping out of the sky into the middle of his world, the guy would still be happily living in his cave. He’d be in there right now enjoying his storybook in peace.

“I’m OK,” he said, cross at being reminded. “Pretty much.” It wasn’t true. Breathing hurt. Talking hurt. Staying awake hurt.

“Hungry?”

“Cones?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Then forget it.”

He looked around, neck stiff. There was just him and Alan. 

So Galen had actually left, gone back to Numai. 

Poor Al – one more thing to worry about: whether he should have let him go, whether plucky little Galen would make it there safe and then make it back. 

Burke wasn’t sure about eating anyhow. The idea of solid food going anywhere near his throat didn’t appeal. Jeez, why wouldn’t everyone just stop wanting to run off somewhere anyhow? Why wouldn’t they just stay put for five goddamned stinking minutes and let themselves kick back for a while? 

Kicking back was something he was good at.

“You look terrible,” Virdon said, helpless.

“Yeah, well yesterday wasn’t quite the afternoon I would have chosen,” Burke replied, hating the way his lungs caught and squeezed.

“I know.” Virdon paused. “I’m sorry.” He put out a hand to help pull him further upright.

Burke frowned, head aching. “Don’t be sorry,” he said, batting away the hand. “Just please tell me we’re not fucking well going back.”


	3. The First Lieutenant

Before meeting the two humans he now bizarrely regarded as friends, Galen wouldn’t have considered traveling on foot under any circumstances. Especially with a backpack, like a common peddler. 

He had no great equestrian skills, and none of the stamina of humans, so like all his genus he’d always driven himself around in small vehicles when he wanted to travel. Tramping miles of pathless terrain entirely un-aided by wheeled transport was for the very poor, the very ignorant, or humans. Not for the educated classes.

Now look at him.

He’d hefted his lightened pack on his back, left the small camp in the woods, headed back down towards the bottom of the slope, and set off. His vague plan was to hope that the apes were still pre-occupied in Central City and so to stick more or less to the main throughfare towards Numai. It would be quicker that way, although more dangerous if there were patrols.

“Be careful,” had been Virdon’s last advice. “Very careful, and if you’re in any doubt, come back.”

“I’m not stupid.”

“Damn it, Galen, I know you’re not stupid but none of us can afford any more trouble, that’s all!”

Tiredness and anxiety had made them both... exasperated with one another. 

Exasperated. And fatigued. Yes, that’s what it was. Galen was a little concerned about what exasperation and fatigue bubbled under the surface between Virdon and Burke, too. Left alone to face once another, once Burke was more than groggy, he suspected things might ‘go south’ as Burke liked to term it. 

Having spent so many of his waking hours in their company, Galen had decided much of their undoubted emotion over what had happened to them in the first place was suppressed. Virdon’s because he was a natural peace-maker, or because he was just too stunned, and Burke’s because... well, although he was more incendiary he had a pragmatic bent, and he also strove to keep the spotlight off himself. He might have agreed the city’s empty-seeming ruins had been a disappointment, for example, but Galen reckoned inside Burke was still frothing mad about being obliged to go there. It had been against what he’d consider his better judgement and he’d nearly paid the ultimate price. The shocking cave-in and subsequent events were not enough to diminish the basic problem. 

Which was that Burke and Virdon were in fundamental disagreement about how their lives should proceed. Galen was very clear about that. It had always been true, right from the moment he’d first met them, but Virdon’s single-mindedness, ever dangerous, had nearly killed Pete this time.

So really, Pete was right to be mad. It was a sensible point of view.

But in truth the utter romantic folly of Alan’s position always appealed to Galen even more. 

“Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.” 

Galen vocalized his confusion into the quiet of the day. He had lately felt painfully split in his loyalty between humans and his own kind, but not so much between Virdon and Burke themselves. He’d identified it himself while they were in Numai before. Their eternal impasse. And when he’d been given the deciding vote he’d gone with Virdon’s plan.

He wondered at his wisdom in leaving them alone. Perhaps he should have stayed instead of running off to show how fearless he was? Perhaps more was to be gained by being a moderator.

‘Galen, you will always be more of a worrier than a warrior,’ his father had said once, not entirely pleased.

Well, too late now. Pete needed some medicines and they all needed fresh food.

Roughly two hours later Galen found himself, unbearably footsore and dry, limping back through the chickens and goats towards the house of Miller of Numai.

The villagers there were passive, watching, but reluctant to acknowledge him.

He felt himself closely observed all the way to his destination. The door covering was tied back, there was a tantalizing smell of fresh food coming from inside, and Galen forgot his manners. He’d never much needed them around humans, or at least that was what he’d been taught. Driven by need, he pushed straight inside without a word of warning. Only Mary, the mother, was home. 

And she didn’t look as welcoming as her husband.

“You!” the woman blurted, starting out of a chair. She had been sitting at the table, stirring something in a large, earthenware bowl. There were eggshells, potato peelings and globules of oil on the table surface. Something else was cooking. The chair scraped back. She looked both angry and afraid. 

“I’m here alone,” Galen said, palms toward her in peace. “It’s all right, really it is. I’m sorry to burst in on you, but I’m here to ask for your help. Again. My friends are up in the forest and Pete’s been hurt. We need food. Food and some medicine.”

He was at least asking and not ordering.

“The apes haven’t come back,” the woman said, voice flat. “My husband feared he’d be wanted for questioning in Central City, so he’s gone away for a while, to avoid the troopers.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” And he was, truly, sorry. At the same time he hoped the woman wasn’t going to be all human and wilful and refuse to get beyond that. He glanced around. “Your children?”

“Working.”

“Thank goodness they weren’t wanted for questioning too.”

There was a strained silence.

“Your friend Pete – is he badly hurt?”

Ah, yes. There was strong solidarity and fellow feeling amongst humankind, even though you often had to search hard to find it. 

“He fell into a hole in the city.” Galen shuddered just thinking of it. 

“We heard it was Urko who fell.”

“They were trapped together.”

“We heard Urko might be dead.”

“Not dead. Unconscious. Which is why it’s quiet. Pete’s badly bruised and his ribs may be damaged. He needs something to help him sleep, so he can start to heal. Do you have anything like that?”

A pause, while the slow brain ticked over. “There’s a woman at the end of the village. She would have something for the bruises, and something to dull pain.”

“I can’t pay you.” 

Mary didn’t move from her spot. Yes, the wilful character was showing itself. It always did.

“Would you like to eat?” She finally seemed to remember the hospitality Miller was famed for, although she sounded unwilling.

“I don’t have time, although thank you. I would like a drink, and then I would like to take some food – if you’ll let me – and the medicines, get back to my friends as fast as I can.”

“A cart will be leaving for the mill in an hour or so, back towards the forest. You could ride for a while, get back to your friends quicker?”

“Oh,” Galen said, his back suddenly seizing in fatigue. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

Nevertheless it was late afternoon by the time the food had been prepared, the woman at the end of the village had been winkled out, and he’d talked his way into getting some more bindings, some arnica balm, and some medicine lozenges in a little drawstring bag.

A driver carrying empty sacks for grain was unearthed. The man was monosyllabic, deferential, unquestioning. A typical human villager. Galen found himself impatient with that, even though it made his life easier. It seemed that exposure to Virdon and Burke had raised his expectations. Humans, of all kinds, were so confusing.

“Give Miller out best wishes,” he said to Mary, feeling it a little trite. “I hope he will return home soon.”

“And I hope your friend gets well, and that you all stay safe. Miller must return home soon. Or else I don’t know what we will do.” 

She passed over a woven bag stuffed with bread, cheese, herb tea, some dark dry sausage, some of the strange egg and vegetable mess she’d been making which Galen didn’t like the look of, and plenty of fruit, which he did. Galen had filled his canteen with water again. Instead of sitting up on the bench with the driver, he sat dangling his legs on the open back of the cart. He’d cushioned himself with the extra blankets Mary had given him, not sure how he was going to carry them. 

The farewell was polite, but not especially warm. He knew what he represented. And as far as she was concerned, that he was superior to her in every way. Nevertheless he raised his hand in goodbye as the cart rattled forward. She hadn’t needed to help him, but she had.

Mary stood at the entrance of her ramshackle little house, her face that lumpen, human blankness Galen couldn’t read and that was so frustrating to him. 

He watched her standing there until the cart rounded a corner and Numai had gone.

 

*

Although he’d left them in the morning, it was nearly dark when he found his way back to Burke and Virdon. On his own, without Burke’s encouragement, and Virdon’s nagging, he didn’t move nearly so fast as when they traveled as a trio.

The fire was still burning. His friends were sitting away from it, and away from one another. 

“Thank God,” Virdon said, poised for danger. He was crouched, a fat stick in his hand. “We thought you’d been arrested.”

Galen dismissed that and held up his spoils in triumph. Whatever he thought of the egg mess, they were going to love it. 

“I didn’t see a single patrol! It’s as if time has stood still. And I have food!”

Virdon let go his stick, arm slumping. “Any news on Urko?”

“Well strangely enough I didn’t hang around long enough to find out.” Galen put the bag down, gratified when Virdon reached for it at once. “But I think if it was bad news Numai might have been razed to the ground before I even got there. Miller is hiding out but his family are safe, for now.” 

Galen glanced across at Burke who was half sitting, half leaning against a smooth tree trunk. He had a blanket around him. From the arm curled around the bandaging and the shadowy rings around his eyes Galen guessed he hadn’t spent the day sleeping. He looked clean though. At last.

“Don’t suppose you brought any booze?” That was Burke’s way of welcoming him back.

Galen tutted. “If you mean intoxicating liquor, no.” 

He moved closer to the bag of food, muzzle scrunching at the smell. He’d eaten enough on the journey back to keep him going, but not enough to fill his belly. Everything in the stash that wasn’t related to a chicken was calling to him. He pulled the little drawstring pouch from the front of his smock. “But there is something in here you crumble into boiled water and drink.”

“Beautiful.”

“If you let me have that, Galen, I’ll make it up right away.” Virdon was brisk. “And while I do, get this one here to eat something would you?” 

Galen found it very typical he’d see to other’s needs before his own. But ‘this one?’ Had they been niggling as he’d feared?

Burke certainly didn’t seem impressed. “Oh, here we go, Dr. Pushy’s doing his rounds.” The type of humor was not unfamiliar to Galen by now, but the bite of sourness was.

Hunger did that. It was the same for all species.

“Is everything all right?” Galen said, settling back on his own blanket in some relief. He pulled the fresh food towards him, mouth watering. “With you two, I mean?”

“We’re fine,” Virdon said, short. “Apart from worrying where you were.”

“Well thank you.” Galen felt a rush of fondness. “Thank you for worrying.”

They ate enough to stave off the worst of the hunger. The medicine lozenges smelled of earth and insects, and dissolved into watery brown sludge, but Virdon was implacable. He stood over Burke until he’d eaten the warmed egg mess, some of the fruit, and then drunk half a tin of the beige-colored liquid.

“If you’re trying to make me throw up again, then you’re doing a good job,” Burke grumbled. He held the tin away from him, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, shaky.

“Yeah, yeah. Just take your medicine, Major. All of it.”

Burke pinched his eyes shut when he’d finished. He swallowed a few times as if trying to keep something down. When Virdon had eaten he obliged him to sit still while he took off the wrappings round his ribcage and applied arnica balm to the still angry bruising. When it was done and he was strapped up again, Burke gave Virdon a not entirely serious glower and went to lie, hunched over, in his spot. After about half an hour, it appeared he’d fallen into a light slumber, face towards the fire. 

Virdon seemed to hold his breath. Then he stepped lightly across the ground, crouched down and put what Galen could only describe as a gentle hand to Burke’s forehead under his hair . Gentle, yes. And tender in that odd way the two humans had with one another sometimes. Astounding.

Galen could see there was a measure of relaxation about Burke’s features, at last, and could feel Virdon’s intense relief.

“Can I sleep too?” he said, trying not to sound too pitiful.

“Take as much as you need,” Virdon said, smirking slightly over his shoulder.

Galen felt another rush of fondness. A good friend, Alan Virdon. A good human, to boot, despite the inevitable, exasperating flaws.

Galen realized he thought that about both of them, every single day. That in spite of the chaos they’d brought him and the conundrums they posed, he was glad to be with them.

Really, now, it was all he had.


	4. Steadying the Ship

The night was altogether more peaceful than the one before.

There were no more tremors. The air was somehow clearer, calmer. When it came to being on watch, Virdon was satisfied that his companions slept undisturbed. Galen was clearly tired out by his journey, and Burke was effectively – although Virdon didn’t quite know how – poleaxed by the medicine from Numai. His breathing had become easier across the previous day as his lungs cleared. Virdon had kept him hydrated and still, and now, with care and rest, he’d begin to pick up. Distance from what had nearly been his sarcophagus would help, too.

“What should we do today?” Galen asked in the morning as the two of them sat over a breakfast of dried bread and fruit. Burke was still dead to the world.

“Find more food. Fish, maybe. Move on.” 

“Will he be-?”

“No way. He’s going to be off his game for weeks but we can’t stay here. We need to get higher up, find ourselves a better hideout.”

“Ha,” Galen murmured. “When I was small, finding a hideout would have been one of my favorite things to do.”

Virdon considered this for a moment and then grinned at him. “Mine too.” 

“Really.” Galen’s eyes gleamed. “So once upon a time you actually played at being a fugitive?”

“Yeah, and look at me now. It isn’t near as much fun as I thought.”

“Tell me about it,” came a grumpy, muffled voice. 

They both looked over to see Burke rolling himself very cautiously to face them, then coming up on one elbow by degrees. Pete had a little more color in his face and that pleased Virdon more than he could say.

“Well good morning.” 

Burke blinked, scrubbed a knuckle into one eye. “You’ll let me know what’s good about it in a moment, right?”

Galen snuffled, chiding. “There’s breakfast. It’s sunny. Still quiet. You slept.”

“Yeah.” Burke removed the knuckle and turned up his lips. There was almost a familiar twinkle in his eye. Almost. “Nice comfy bed.” He made a tentative move to kick his way out of the blankets.

Virdon scooted across the camp. “Nice and easy,” he said. “You remember how it goes.”

No barbs about Dr. Pushy this morning. Burke held out an arm, let Virdon grasp it under the elbow, lever him gently to sitting.

“Need to go all the way,” Burke huffed. “Do my ablutions, you know.”

“That’s fine. Just go all the way a little at a time. How was your night?”

“Man,” Burke said. “That stuff could take out an elephant.”

“Yeah we’re going to have to ration it. Next dose not until tonight or we’ll never get you moving.”

“I have to move?”

“Maybe not today,” Virdon conceded. “So yeah, you go do whatever. Breakfast is served in ten minutes.”

Burke glanced at the bread, fruit and some kind of herbal tea swilling in the bottom of the can. “Yummy,” he said.

When he came back he wasn’t exactly moving fluidly, but he didn’t look about to crumble again as he had most of yesterday. Virdon nodded at him, satisfied. Thank God – in this instance, anyhow – for NASA’s brutal, stamina-building regime. 

“You know,” Burke said, when he’d eaten – not much, it had to be said. “I’m thinking perhaps we should move on today after all.”

“I don’t know, Pete. Your bones are going to be jangling for a few days yet. Walking will just make it worse. And if there’s a fracture...”

“Yeah.” Burke looked at Galen, thoughtful. “But there’s something you should know.”

“This sounds like a something you don’t particularly want me to hear,” Galen said, intuitive as ever.

Burke’s head drooped. Then he raised it again, shrugged. “You’re right. I don’t. But it’s important. It could cause us more trouble than we already have, so you two need to know.”

Virdon felt his heart skip a sluggish beat. “So tell us.”

Burke paused a significant moment before he began. “Down in the subway, there were a bunch of ads on the wall, you know.”

“I don’t know.” Galen’s eyes were fixed on him as if he understood he was about to hear something important.

“All right, all right.” Pete took a breath, gathered his thoughts. “OK, so there were posters – pictures – with slogans on them, selling things. Like food, insurance, places to visit?”

“I’ve never seen such things, but that’s fine – I think I can imagine.” Galen glanced at Virdon, received a look of encouragement.

“There was this one picture that Urko got very angry about. Very... upset.” 

Virdon felt a prickle of unease at Burke’s reticence. He guessed a more accurate description might have been ‘murderous’.

“Well?” Galen demanded. “Are you going to enlighten us or is this just a tease?”

“No, no tease. OK. So there was this one poster for... Jeez, what can I say? A great day out for all the family.” An unwilling huff. “Take your children for a fun visit to the City Zoo.”

Predictably, Galen echoed the unfamiliar word and Virdon’s belly chilled a little more.

Burke looked shame-faced. “A Zoological Collection – what we called a Zoo – that’s where we kept all kind of animal species from all over that you could go look at. Like lions, and tigers, and giraffes, you know?” He made a face at Galen’s round eyes. “Never mind. Anyhow, this poster showed some kids looking at an animal in a cage.”

“A cage?” Galen questioned, scooting past the unfamiliar animal names.

“Yes!” Burke snapped, suddenly irritated. “A cage! A cage like the ones you apes keep humans in. A cage like a prison cell, only this one was to show off what was inside to all the humans who came to visit. To show off the ape inside.”

Galen listened with his face scrunched up. “Apes in a cage?” He plainly couldn’t visualize it.

Burke pulled at an ear-lobe, nervous again. “Yeah. And one of the human kids was offering the apes a banana, which, y’know, is technically against the rules.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Yeah, well Urko said he didn’t either, but he did.” Burke looked at Virdon, even more shame-faced. “I guess it didn’t help that I kind of taunted him with it.”

“Why the hell would you do that?” Virdon was as disbelieving as Galen. “Are you nuts?”

Burke bristled. “Yeah, well I was oxygen-deprived, you know? It was the fucking last chance saloon down there! Urko wanted to perform open-heart surgery on me with this blade he’d found, and I needed to knock him out. He was beside himself, wouldn’t have calmed down for me to get him out of there. Soooo I made him mad enough to lunge at me... and then I um... kinda zapped him with the solar light. You know, just enough to knock him senseless.” Burke made a what-are-you-going-to-do-about-it gesture with his hands. “But the point is, he saw the poster. He saw all that! And he knows I did, too. He can’t risk me, or any of us, telling any other apes about it. That whole enemies of the state thing? Well, I’m thinking it just got that little bit worse.”

And he scrubbed a shaky hand across his face, suddenly feeling the effort of his speech.

Virdon frowned to see the weakness. And then he looked at Galen. The chimpanzee’s face was set, stiff, expressionless.

Oh God. There was going to be no explaining themselves out of this one.

“Why?” Galen asked. “I mean... I can understand if you were afraid of apes, thought them dangerous, or if they’d done something and you needed to... but to lock them up so humans could come for a day out and... and stare at them.”

“It was educational,” Pete offered. “A way to learn things.”

“Yeah, and a way to help protect apes,” Virdon put in, probably too earnest. “When their numbers were dying out in the wild.”

Galen’s eyes narrowed. “And why would that have been?”

Virdon put his hands on his hips, stared at the ground. “Pete’s right,” he said. “This is only going to make things worse. We need to move.”

“Wait a second.” Galen’s voice was uncharactertistically icy. “You haven’t justified this zoo thing to me yet.”

“Hell, Galen, I’m not sure I can.”

Galen’s head wagged, moving between Virdon and Burke. He had an uncharacteristically disgusted look on his face. Burke just shrugged, pressing a hand to his side. 

“Listen.” Virdon was mollifying. “It’s a debate we should probably have, a philosophical, scientific, moral debate... whatever.” He chose his words carefully. But I don’t think we should have it right now.”

“But you do think we should pack up and get back on the run?” 

“Well I... yes, I do.”

“Up into the mountains?” 

There was a silence. If he hadn’t known better Virdon might have thought Galen was goading him, just a little bit. He felt the painful tug of the city – girders and rubble and rust and tumbleweed. And he felt the imaginary, urgent heat of the disk in the bag. “Maybe,” he fudged.

“Wait a minute.” Burke frowned, all the new lightness going out of his face. “Wait just a minute. I know that look.”

Galen made a questioning noise, head cocked. 

“You want to go back there don’t you.” Burke’s features twisted in disbelief “After everything that happened? After pushing our luck right over the damned cliff you want us to go back there and do it again!”

“Not today,” Virdon said quickly. Perhaps too quickly. “Not even this week. But sometime.” He felt his jaw jutting, his famed reasonableness starting to drain. “And if you don’t want to go, well you don’t have to.”

“Oh come on, Alan!” For the first time since his rescue Burke’s voice came out without a crackle. It was punchy with frustration instead. “Like I’m going to let you go do something that stupid on your own. Jesus! I’m a fucking mindless idiot when it comes to following you around, we all know that.” His teeth clamped together, and Virdon was pretty sure it was his ribs as much as it was his vexation. The call-back to certain jibes Burke had been subject to in Houston hung in the air.

“No,” Galen said, not knowing any of that, impatient that it was even under discussion. “No, no, no. We don’t split up. We stick together. You can’t just teach me the value of it and then do the opposite.”

Burke slung him a withering look. “And this is the part where you tell me you agree with Alan again, right? And that we can’t ignore the damned unanswered question?”

“Well can we?”

“Yes,” Burke said, struggling to his feet, one eye scrunched against the difficulty. “Yes, we can. Else it’s going to drive us all crazy. Starting with me.”

“I’m not going to stop, Pete,” Virdon said. “I’m just not. You know it.”

His heart was beating fast, palms sweating. Even though he knew it wasn’t actually possible he thought he could feel the round weight of the disk etched against his hip. 

“Not ever, huh?” Burke had both hands to his ribs now he was upright. Defiance crackled in the dark eyes.

Virdon had a sudden, unwelcome image of him taking a stand. Of Pete – who drove him crazy and kept him sane – walking out. He saw Burke living out his days in some remote cave miles from Central City, father to countless barefoot children, godfather of illegal hooch. Eccentric, grumpy, unrepentant, and feisty as hell. A kind of Farrow reborn. On his own.

Not with him.

_God damnit._

A part of Virdon wanted to bark out that being stranded thousands of years out of their own time didn’t mean he wasn’t still in damned charge. And that the Major needed to buckle up, stop mewling, and do as he was ordered. It was his damned _duty_ to try and get back to Earth in their time. 

But another part of him didn’t want to be in charge at all. Wanted to try and forget what was practically written into their bones.

Virdon swallowed. He somehow knew Galen would end up backing him on this, despite the zoo revelations, just because he wouldn’t be able to help himself. 

“No, not ever,” he replied, pushing the emotion about Burke away. “And I can’t even apologize for that.”

“Apes in cages,” Galen suddenly murmured, head wagging again. “Really? That was part of your great human civilisation?”

“Guess you’ve hit on another unanswered question. We’re building quite a collection.” Burke sounded tired. He was staring up through the trees towards the rocks ahead of them, towards the heights that would slow down any pursuers but that he knew he was in no shape to negotiate.

“OK, Galen.” Virdon dragged his gaze away from Burke, saw Galen’s gimlet stare directed right at him. His shoulders felt heavy with it. “Fine. We can talk about it. We should talk about it.”

“No,” Galen said, simply shutting down the conversation. Sharp as a slap. “I think I need to take a walk. A long walk.” He looked around, half distracted, and then at his human companions – muzzle and brow furrowed, almost as if he couldn’t quite see them, or as if he was seeing them anew. It was a look that cut to the quick.

Virdon opened his mouth to tell him to be careful and then thought better of it. Both he and Burke watched in shared silence as Galen collected some water. The chimpanzee didn’t acknowledge them again. Just set off, slow and careful, into the trees below them, through which more level ground could be glimpsed. He needed, very clearly, not to be with them.

And if Virdon thought that by looking over at Burke he’d see anything more encouraging, he was mistaken.

“So OK,” he said, because as commanding officer he couldn’t ignore any of this. “And what about you?”

Burke jabbed a finger at the bag Galen had brought back from Numai. 

“Me? I’m going to drink enough of that hoodoo sleep juice to wipe me out for the rest of the day. Because right now I don’t want my brain working. I just want to pretend that none of this insane shit is happening.”

“Pete, I’m thinking you need to go easy with that stuff...”

“Oh you do? Well, tough, Colonel Virdon, go ahead and report me. I’ll take brain scramble.”

Mutiny in the ranks. 

Everything this morning was still and quiet, but Virdon had the strange sensation that the ground was moving under his feet again. Not only was his entire, stable former life in limbo, now even his newer and crazier one was. 

He shut his eyes against the sun crawling down through the branches. Just for a second. His brain wouldn’t stop ticking over, though. They needed more fuel for the fire. They needed more food for when the Numai supplies ran out. More water. There were things to be done. 

When he opened his eyes again, fatigue pricking his forehead, Burke was busy doing exactly what he’d said. Looked like he was really going for it with the... what had he called it? Hoodoo Sleep Juice. Well that was terrific. Virdon figured the means to oblivion would have to be wrestled off him right now.

Setting his face against it, Virdon went to find fuel. He made several trips. The first time he came back and found Burke half propped up against the packs, face in the sun, head tipped back and a look of concentration on his face, as if he was listening to music. The second time his eyes were closed, face slack. 

“Sleep well,” Virdon said softly, crouching by the fire. He hissed to see the empty can, the sludgy grounds left by who knews how many more of those mysterious lozenges from Numai. Glancing over at Burke his heart hurt a little to see the purple rings etched deep under the downswept lashes. Then there was the dark bruising to his neck, the unwell definition of his cheekbones, the protective arm held around his ribcage – yeah, it was a crack at least. That was going to be six weeks in the healing.

A painful clarity washed through Virdon. 

This was his priority. Not for the mission’s sake – whatever the hell that was anymore – but because he cared about the cranky, good-looking son-of-a-bitch. More than he could say.

The sluggish fire bit down on the new kindling. Virdon shuffled backwards, found a tree trunk to rest against. From there he could watch over Burke and watch out for Galen’s return.

Lord knows what Galen would say to them when he’d finished navel-gazing. He wasn’t going to let it lie, that was for sure. And why should he? None of them could let anything lie. Not what had happened to their past, not what their future would be, and not how they survived the present.

Virdon breathed in the piney air. A warm wind worried the wood-smoke, rustled the canopy overhead. Maybe this, this time in their camp up in the rocky hills, would be Year Zero. From where everything could start again.

It felt almost painful, but he pulled the little jute bag from his hip. The weight was familiar, the need to keep it secure as all-important as ever, but he knew he needed to be able to live without it – even if only for a while. Tightening his fingers reflexively around the coarse fabric for a second, Virdon tossed the bag away from him. It hit the ground with a dull thump.

 

-ends-


End file.
